The World Please Keep Turning
by K a t r i x a
Summary: One-shots ranging from Chernobyl, to the USSR to the deep character explorations of Russia, Ukraine and others. Some material is not for youngans, be warned. Heavy imagery and emotions through out.
1. Chernobyl Drabble 1 of 2

**A/n: Based on the events of Chernobyl. In my head-cannon I believe Ukraine would regret it very much, because while she was not directly responsbile they were her people and they did not follow everything that should have been done during testing. So she goes there every so often, knowing the risks of radiation poisoning, but she cannot stop, because she can't ever forget the lives lost nor the memories which were created. Bitter sweet? Maybe. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I own and claim nothing!  
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Twenty-five years to the day and still she could feel the pain of death, the pain of skin being seared by the toxic air that scorched her lands, by the fires and the poison which had her ill for days. Twenty-five years to the day when her beloved sister and brother were effected from an explosion that her own people caused. When she heard of the events leading up to it she felt anger, annoyance and a severe -almost closely linked to her brother's "kol kol" mode- filled her. Then like that it melted into sadness. Not even she, the nation of Ukraine, was allowed and yet here she was walking the streets in which the natural Earth of trees and plants now took to, where animals now roamed. Air, heavy and poisonous, filled her lungs. A feel of hands grabbing, tugging, pulling at her arms, her legs. Suffocating. She was suffocating under the guilt and sadness and sobbed, breaking down completely in the middle of the street. Twenty-five years and she could not handle stepping into the area. Surely she was strong enough now; yet as it was back then she could not handle it.

…...

Rusted gates, moth eaten stuff animals, abandoned, silent stalls. Where laughter would have been abundant there was none. Where children should have been seen running freely, tugging their parents arms to take them here or there there were none. Nothing. Abandoned. Desolate. She was to bring her siblings here, to spend time with them. They were to have fun as normal people, not as nations.

"I promised them and now I cannot keep that promise."

The words, when spoken, sounded so loud to her ears even though whispered. Even here she could feel the silence that enveloped her town. Against a cloudy sky the plant stood painted like an ominous cloud. Foreboding in its own fashion. She could only imagine now what fun they would have had, instead of remembering the fun they did have, because those memories which should have been created were not. Nor would they ever be.

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Standing in the very spot where the core once stood, Ukraine knew then that the area would never be safe to live in. She walked the desolate plant gray-blue eyes hazy. Here, where the radio-active air was most poisonous is where she felt the most. Pale, gentle hands held pieces of graphite, letting the material stain her hands. How foolish were they to make some of this building with this matieral, to know that it could easily be combustible? Anger, like a fiery passion that could be rivaled to that of lust glared at the area. Her foolish people.

"..."

She wanted to scream in frustration, throwing the piece to the ground. If only...if only they realized what had gone wrong, they wouldn't have misjudged. Yet they are people, and she could not truly fault them. Her lungs burned as she coughed. She should really leave, but it was here she felt most connected with her people, her /children/.

Irina fell asleep against an old piece of equipment.


	2. Chernobyl Drabble 2 of 2

**A/n: My friends OC Armenia visiting Chernobyl with Ukraine. Be warned, heavy imagery and emotions. Read at own risk. Thank you -bows-  
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When Haig had heard her speak before of the city, he was not aware that like with the park, there was an underlying air of sadness that choked the air from one's lungs. The road was long, lined by trees and then they entered the town. The very city where everything went to hell. Even here at the very edge he could feel the pain of the land, of the air. He knew very well he may become sick but this was important to her and he would not let her walk through here alone. The sun had begun to prepare it's descent and as they walked farther his breathing became slower, eyes widening. All around were buildings crumbling, buildings he was sure were once very inviting and not so...

"Desolate."

"Irina?"

"It's desolate. This area... this city... where we are going I cannot promise you will leave without feeling the effects of radiation. However...we're nations we can't die..." At least she hoped not. The air became harder to breathe, her body trembling as the scars started to itch and burn as if eating at her skin like acid.

To this, Haig took notice and with a steady hand took her own trembling limbs; pulling them to him in an embrace holding her. She did not seem to register anything, not even his arms as her mind replayed the horror she witnessed. Panic. Confusion. People getting violently ill so fast and then a panic to escape, a stampede. Even now she could remember the smell of poisoned smoke that filled the air and the mass sea of limbs as people were forced to evacuate. She remembered the warning shouts, the cries of children who lost their parents. An overwhelming sadness engulfed her as she screamed out in pain, out of sadness and anger. Pent up emotions like a tidal wave crashed over her as she shook like a leaf in winter desperately trying to cling to its branch. A cold chill ran through her as if something walked through her. Hands on her legs, on her back, touching her, grabbing for her. She curled instinctively into the older nation, sobbing and unable to make coherent speech. No attempts of soothing words or gentle murmurs seemed to calm her, which worried the older nation just a tad more then it should.

"Irina?" He tried gently, but the girl would not respond and remained clung to him, face buried into his chest as she continued to cry.

"I can't...I can't...?I'm sorry...Russia...Belarus...I'm so sorry..."

"Irina!" She stopped, looking up at him with broken gray-blue eyes. It was...something he never wished to see upon any woman's face. "Irina..." he began again gently this time, wiping the tears that continued to fall.

"I can't..." she hiccuped, coughing some from sobbing so much, but she did not loosen her grip, instead she clung tighter and then looked back to him. She felt so sad, she couldn't seemed to form the words. Couldn't even move.

Eyes turned to gaze at the Fourth Reactor which stood like an ominous sign.

"Would you like to go back?" He asked gently, stroking her cheek, rubbing her lower back in soothing circles as he held her. The female just nodded mutely...but mid nod shook her head no. She had to see it, she had to face yet it hurt so much to move. She felt ill, feverish and cold. Very cold, yet hot. "Then, let's continue," was the reply as he lifted the other's body easily, carrying her farther into the town, closer to the reactor and closer to the heart of what started.

The walk was silent, her sobbing died down to tears as her body relaxed into a tired sleep. He knew what it was like to face an area where great tragedy happened, how it was hard to not let one's mind get swept by the emotions that will forever remain grounded in that time for eternity. Trees begun to grow from buildings, mutated birds it seemed flew over head, letting an ominous call be heard. A ghost town.

"They were deformed..." she mumbled quietly as they got closer. "When I saw videos,pictures...it was horrifying to see. Skin burned, hair gone bodies mutated from the radiation. I couldn't stop crying."

"I see," he stated gently. Even now he began to feel the full extent of her sadness, of the fear that will forever remained trapped here. He also began to feel his skin itch some, but yet she seemed to be writhing every so often in pain.

"It's hard to breathe..." she said softly, eyes closing again. "I really can't feel anything but a burning of my skin, like acid is eating away."

"We're here Irina," he said as if not hearing her. He glanced down at her and frowned, she had passed out. "Irina..."

The sky was now dark, the stars and moon their only light as he turned to walk out. Perhaps another time. It was to early still for her to heal.

"Rest well, Irina," he spoke gently, kissing her forehead as his footsteps echoed all around him, his back towards the Core and towards the ghost which he knew would haunt her and the images that would never leave.


	3. A Siblings Vow

**A/n: After the Germans left Ukraine the country was pretty much destoryed. The soviets, realizing what had happened introduced a "Scorched Earth" policy which meant that Ukraine was pretty much fucked argicultural wise. So I wanted to try and play that over into the Hetalia verse and thus this what happened. **

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Dead.

That was how one would describe the once beautiful lands of Ukraine. Scorched, burned, ravaged...broken. She was wrong. So very wrong. Germany did not help her people. The Soviets were not helping no matter how much she believed they were. No one helped her, no one cared. She was always taken advantaged of, always soft...always...

"I can't stand it..."

Her voice was dry, raspy. She had finally saw through the haze of lies, those gentle soothing words the German had spoken to her as he got close to her. Once the veil was lifted she tried so hard to fight back against him. She betrayed her children, her people, this was how she would make up for it and yet much like her lands she was not meant for fighting and so she fell. Hard. The sky was darkened as the smell of rain hung heavily in the air. Blue-gray eyes clouded over in sadness as she stood, head tilting upwards to stare at the darkening clouds.

"Sestra?" He asked, voice hallow as he looked to the woman who raised him, held him.

She did not notice his approach, nor the feel of his arms as he fell to his knees, clinging to her, crying. She did not register anything. Only a cold, aching numbness in her chest. So many of people dead. By the Soviets. By the Germans...by her own hands she let them do as they will, believing they were helping her. A fool. Such a naïve, trusting fool.

"Sestra..." He looked up at her, eyes filled with regret and sadness. Had he known truly how things were he would have tried harder to protect her but it was only in his moments of clarity, when the red haze of Communism did not blind him did he ever really notice the horrors that had gone on.

He could handle them, hide those feelings and be the cold, unfeeling general he needed to be but when he saw his poor sister in such a state, his very own mother figure everything went cold. He clung to her tighter, burying his face into her chest, clutching at her shirt, pulling at it.

"Please sestra, please look at me!" He begged, looking to her again. Only then did her own meet his.

"Hello Ivan..." she whispered, smiling sadly to him as her tears landed on his cheeks. "Oh brother, don't cry..." she whispered once more, leaning down to kiss away the tears, hugging him to her tightly as her own tears fell against her will.

"I'm sorry..."

"It's alright..."

"Nyet! It is not alright! I..."

Yaketerina smiled gently and pressed a finger to his lips, silencing the Russian. "I said it's alright, you had no idea. I'll be fine though, I promise. I'm not of concern, but you and Belarus. You two are my only concerns now. I'll protect you."

"Nyet! NYET! You will NOT!" The Russian's voice was filled with pain as he stood, taking her face into his hands and looked at her. "I will help you. I'll protect you..."

Yaketerina broke down sobbing then, clinging to him. The pain...all of her pain was being released and Russia, unaccustomed to comforting, just held her. His boss would deifnitely help him, he knew that. After all no one messed with his sisters, espcially not Ukraine. "Ivan..."

"It will be better soon."

Yet the tender hearted female could not help but feel things would not be better for a very long time.


	4. Scars of the Past

**A/n: Spain and Ukraine. No real desire, I was RPing with a friend, and this sort of happened. Spain going over the many burn scars which she had suffered. Sex scenes are happening, be warned. **  
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Floating. That was the only way to describe how she felt at that very moment as she lay curled against the tanned, sun-kissed body of the Spaniard. Safe was another word she felt when those strong, calloused hands worked along her back, massaging the skin ever so gently. Truly it was the most content she had felt in a long, long while that she had for the most part almost fell asleep, yet the question still lingered: Why did he sleep with her? She did not find herself all that attractive and she really never wanted anyone besides her brother to see those scars and yet...

"Why did you want to see them?" She asked quietly, locking their eyes together as she leaned up to kiss under his chin, cuddling closer for warmth.

"Hmm," he did not directly answer her, instead he pushed her onto her back to stare at the scars that littered her stomach, her sides and leg. A careful, steady hand brushed first against her stomach as finger pads gentle glided along the sensitive scar tissue that still remained. Not surprisingly it brought a mixed sound of pleasure and fear.

"This scar," he began gently now fully focused on nothing more then the way her body reacted to his touches, how she reacted to him as he caressed the area. "Tell me how did this occur?"

"..." She did not answer directly and instead she chose to just glance away and try to ignore the feather light touches that glided across the skin. "When the reactor exploded at first I didn't feel anything but then I could feel it. The first few pinpricks. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary as people die all the time but this one hurt...far more then it should."

He did not rush her as she gathered her thoughts after all one who rushed anything would not get what they desired, and if one waited chances were higher that in the end what they want...desire...would be given. It is this thinking that male began to trace innate swirls along the stomach moving to the hip, down her thigh only to return once more to where his hand lingered not more then a few seconds ago. He continued this action, coaxing gentle mewls from her lips which he captured into teasing, butterfly kisses.

"Then as the night wore on I felt as if everything was burning inside of me, like...everything was melting. I couldn't move or think and when I did I had noticed my stomach and half my right side were burned as if I were in a fire. I have three other houses where I stay and so because the amusement park I had helped designed was to open three days after the explosion I decided to stay there for the week at that house. I was going to take Ivan and Natalia, but when I saw the smoke rising I knew something was very wrong. I collapsed half way to the city itself, living on the outskirts."

Then, he thought to himself, the scars must have come from the radiation poisoning of the land and the air that she breathed in.

"I see..." he whispered as the caresses stopped. Strong, protective arms gathered her to him, allowing himself to press into her so that he could hold the silently crying woman.

It was this very action that made Irina's heart beat faster. Even now, in this state, he did not mind her tears, instead he was holding her. No reprimands, no gentle reassurance just holding and nothing else. She let her head rest under his chin as she curled up, hands pulled to her own chest as she pressed against him.

"The fire in the reactor lasted until May, by that time the radiation had spread and people began to die more, water became contaminated and my siblings...God my siblings...I couldn't stop worrying."

"Shh, it is alright Ucraina. They are fine now, si? It is alright to cry though, I will not stop you; I merely believe a smile suits you far more then tears..."

"E-Eh?"

"Si, tears do not suit you," he stated, capturing her lips with his own. Irina submitted easily to this, eyes closing as not more then a minute in did she herself start to return that kiss.

Heat stirred inside of her as she felt her body become pressed into the mattress, when his lips descended to her neck where he had previously left marks. Spain was a passionate lover, and he knew the farming nation was more then capable to handle him that was why he did not worry. As one hand slid along her inner thigh the other moved to capture, keyword if we're being honest is /try/, to capture one of her large, mounds of flesh in his hand while the other rubbed at her core teasingly, a smirk on his face as he watched her body react to the simple ministrations. Soft, gentle mewls became labored, breathy moans of pure blissful pleasure as a single digit slid into her entrance probing, teasing the woman beneath him, whose eyes now gazed up into his own with cloudy, needy lust that she often repressed.

"A-Antonio..."

"Si?" He asked, lowering his lips to her ear. "¿Qué es Irina? ¿Quieres tu papi, mi hija ?" He asked, smirking some at her. "¿Te gusta como todas?"

"A-Ah...I-I...hnnnn..." she tried to speak, honestly she did yet the only thing her brain could process was the feeling of those skilled fingers moving in and out of her and the thumb that brushed against her clit. Heat continued to coil and spread through her core to her chest to the very tips of her fingers and even to her toes.

It was as if she was drowning in a world of fiery passion that threatened to consume her.

"¿Qué es Irina?" He whispered, words thick like honey that seemed to cause her to melt into the sheets. He thrust the lithe digits in and out of her in a torturous slow pace, smiling when he felt her hips lift to try to take them in more. By far she was the most vocal, easily stimulated woman he had met but perhaps that was why he was so taken by her.

"Please don't go slow..." she whimpered, wanting to feel that familiar, tight pressure that always made her loose everything and drive her over the edge. She wanted to feel him in her, to be as close to him as she could as she tried to find purchase in the blankets beneath them, thoroughly messed up from their earlier activities.

"In due time, Irina," He spoke, as if talking to a child but then without warning that very same tone became the most alluring mesh of noise she had heard. "After all good things come to those who wait, si?"

Lips captured a pert nipple, suckling as if he were a newborn at the breast milk which now started to flow in gentle rivets from her breasts. The taste was very sweet, heavenly almost as he increased the speed of his fingers, working the woman before him, producing a lovely symphony of notes that to him sounded beautiful. Perhaps it was a left over thought process from his marriage to the beautiful, aristocratic Austrian or his own inclination towards music, but he found that bringing such notes and sounds from a woman was just...arousing. Alluring in its own aspect. Her breathing became erratic, desire now clawing at the corner of her mind as she fell victim to the male who now topped her, held her in his own captivating web of desire and endearment.

"P-Please...more..." she felt so weak, so vulnerable beneath him and yet she couldn't help but feel, at this point in time, more alive. She was disconnected from every thought, every stress in her life that could harm her in any way was nothing compared to this feeling. This lighter then air feeling as pleasure coursed through her. The male above her complied, doing just that.

He continued this way of pleasuring her, drawing out every last bit of pleasure he could before withdrawing his fingers, licking his lips as he looked to the panting woman beneath him. His tongue glided over the fingers; cleaning them all the while gazing down at his beloved Irina. To see her in such a state was a sight he wished to capture forever. With no warning to give he lowered his head, lips brushing against the burn scar before his tongue resumed what his fingers had done previously. The female arched her back, hands burying themselves in his hair as she gently tugged, playing with the dark curls as her legs slowly encased him, trapping him for the time being.

There were no words to describe, in all honesty, how she felt at that very moment. Everything was heightened to new levels she never thought could be possible and Antonio could not help but smirk inwardly as he tasted the other's essence, letting sounds she made egg him on. Despite himself being turned on, his main task for the moment was to bring her the utmost pleasure he could. A commitment he kept well to, as the female for the second time since they began, felt her body tense up as strong, powerful legs wrapped tightly around his upper body. The after glow of the orgasm barely hit before she released him and, hands still entangled within the dark curls, pulled his body up so that she could capture his lips in a gentle, lovingly sweet kiss. The taste of her self on his lips mixing with his own created a stirring fire deep inside of her. Air broke their kiss.

"Please..." she begged, gazing at him. "Please take me...now..." the desire, the need that dripped from her voice as she looked up at him like an innocent, desperate child. She wanted to feel that heat consume her again, to feel him claim her. Hold her. "Please...m-mi amore..."

"Irina..." he whispered, the sheer emotion in her voice tore at him as he leaned to capture her lips once more into a kiss before thrusting into her. The female moved against him as her legs once more wrapped themselves around him, pulling him in closer as his hands settled on her hips.

He lifted her from the bed as he started the rhythm. Slow at first, to let her feel every bit of him and drown in that feeling of being filled, of being whole as if she were floating. He gave her very little warning as he increased, gazing at her with lustful, loving green blazing eyes as he spoke to her in his native tongue, giving to her words of utmost affection and love. To the Ukrainians ears his words merely blended into an alluring symphony of sounds as her chest, still quite full with milk began to leak more, the rivets becoming small rivers as she wrapped arms around his neck, hips meeting his thrusts as best she could. Short, manicured nails dug deeply into the skin of her lover as she clawed at his back. Everything was lost around her as they performed this small symphony of love, this highly intimate dance she did not even fathom she would share with anyone at all.

"T-Tonio..." she whimpered, trying to draw the other over the edge as she herself was close to doing. The other's labored breathy moans and increased, frantic pace told her very soon he would finish as well. But then he stopped, his pace suddenly forced into an almost agonizing slow speed. Irina cried out as she was suddenly forced to settled, her body twitching from the desire. No, he would not let it end so soon, and so he settled for this pace, taking his time to drain the beautiful mounds of flesh of the delicious liquid that was staining her torso.

Irina's eyes fell shut in pleasure, a hum of approval as she moved against him, cradling his head like she would a new born. This was truly one of the biggest turn ons the female had. Be it from her desire to nurture or the feeling of her chest slowly being emptied and not painfully full but it was something she desired, needed. To give basically one's self to the other in such an intimate act did things to her that one could scarcely even conceive. To her this was the most intimate form of affection she could show. The feelings alone were edging her on, as she moved against the thrusting member that moved inside of her, out of her and back in. Repeating the endless, pleasure filled feelings that danced across her mind. Speed increased as he soon pulled from the woman's chest, drinking in the very sight of the voluptuous Slavic woman he now had pinned beneath him, whom he now claimed. The moans increased once more, eventually turning into screams of pure, raw pleasure as she continued to call out his name, continued to beg until she felt her world become pure white. She couldn't even feel anything but him releasing inside of her, the feeling of his hot skin against her creating a scorching touch she could barely even hold onto. Irina fell asleep before he could even ask if she was alright much to the Spaniard's amusement. He placed a gentle, chaste kiss to her lips before settling with her under the covers and cuddled her to him.


	5. Welcome to the USSR 1 of 2

**A/n: Ukraine and the Soviet Union. Please enjoy. **

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"Ukraine," Russia's voice was gentle as he sat with his sibling, an arm around her. "You will not run from me anymore,da?" He asked, voice filled with love as he stared at his beautiful sister.

She did not possess the same grace or beauty as the beautiful and deadly Belarus, yet in her own way she was beautiful. Her eyes were downcast, filled with hate, fear, love...but desire was the most prominent. She wanted revenge against Germany but she wanted to take revenge against her brother, because he inflicted so much on her, her country had been left in shambles even more when he forced a "scorched earth" on her but she knew that it was needed, to keep their enemy from having advantage yet it hurt to know her people were suffering, will continue to suffer for a long time, because she knew her people made up many of the soviet union. She was just glad of those of her people who were in Canada and America, safely away from the pain of their homeland.

"Nyet..." she whispered gently, exhaustion over taking her as she gripped her coarse, heavy skirt that stopped at the knees. It was a dark, deep blue that matched the very same textured coat she now wore that shimmered with the medals of a soviet officer. Gold buttons freshly polished shined and barely seemed to remain shut across the massive, swells of flesh she called her chest as leather gloved hands clenched into fists scrunching up the skirt. She wore black, semi-sheer stockings and thick, heavy laced up military styled boots. Had she a more domineering look she would look powerful instead she looked like a lost puppy, unable to do anything but follow her master. Her brother. She missed the simple days when her siblings relied on her, loved her...

"Da, that is good. I would not like to think I would need to...capture you. Keep you locked up, da? You would not like that..." He whispered soothingly, stroking her cheek and her knuckles through the gloves. "Is alright now, Ivan will take care of you."

Irina just nodded, her wheat colored hair falling lifelessly passed her ears, bangs covering her eyes as she tried not to cry. She could not cry, not now.

"Da..." the only word she could think to speak now. "Da...I am grateful, brother," she replies in a gentle voice, turning to gaze at him with all the love she had, that will always remained and leaned to kiss his lips, his cheek and then wrap her arms around him possessively, needfully. "I am so grateful..."

From the sidelines he watched, eyes casting their fatherly gaze upon the siblings. He had heard through snippets of conversation the sheer devestation she was left in, how she had been used, left to her own devices. He felt his heart go out to her. Ah such nations, still so young and yet when he thought of it how much had this young woman suffered in so little time? How many of her own died at the hands of her brother's doing? At her own doing? At Germany's? So much and still he could see the resolve to fight, to move on. Truly, this woman was worthy to be the eldest siblings. The kiss was something he had expected, watching with a vaguely curious look as the Russian returned the kisses, noticing the intimate gestures, the intimate ways she moved against him, clinging to him. The way he held her, protected her. He prayed God would watch over the two siblings, and give them the strength to continue on because the war had not yet ended and he felt another brewing on the horrizon.

"She must be tired, comrade. No doubt one who has suffered much to bounce back must be drained dry, like a waterfall that no longer flows she must recharge herself, to become stronger to flow and move once more."

"Da, I agree. Are you tired, Sister Irina?"

A faint nod was their answer as the Russian picked her up bridal style. She was thinner then normal, lighter then should be but he did not worry because it was Ukraine, she would be healthy once more under his rule and he'd make sure no one hurt his beloved his sister, either of them.

"Let us go then, Comrade Haig."

The Armenian smiled and followed the two out.


	6. Welcome to the USSR 2 of 2

Irina curled up in bed, a sleeping woman held in her arms as strong, male arms held her waist, body pressed and curled around her own. A common sight to one who knew the three soviet siblings. Russia, Belarus and Ukraine. Three vastly different people who seemed to mesh and compliment each other perfectly. The young Belarus slept peacefully, head resting on her sestra's chest, arms pulled to her own as Ukraine's arms held her tightly, protectively. Russia's own held the elder sibling, mouth close to her neck, lips barely brushing skin. they were huddled under two thick blankets dressed in shapeless warm cotton nightgowns. The room was cozy, warm, with gentle pastel colors of blue and yellow and sunflower printed wall paper and plush, thick red carpeting that matched the red drapes that hung about the four poster king sized bed. This was his room, his and his beloved siblings whom he held closest. No one would have them, touch them. They were his to protect and love. Yes, he loved his Belorussian sister as much as his ukrainian sister and nothing would change that. Belarus merely scared him with her weird "marriage" thing. Haig was never one to interrupt the siblings during their fluff time, as he so liked to call it, but things had to be done, and they had a meeting. So naturally he entered the room, turning on the light and smiled at the sight. With a few cautious steps he woke the slumbering soviets and told them of the meeting and then left, saying he would wait.

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Ukraine did not show up to the meeting, still in bed, weak still from the forced famine, the fires, and the struggles of her people that seemed to continue to die without her ability to stop. She did show up though, half way through to the shame of her own boss and the shame of her siblings. A soft apology as she sat next to her boss, exhaustion setting in. She glanced first to her Belorussian sister the beautiful woman she held dear to her heart. She was strong, always had been. She envied her to be able to hold up well. She knew her own sibling suffered her hardships yet it did not seem it. Haig, the strong, gentle nation had seen more then his fair share and he was able to stand so proud. How? How could so many after facing so much stand so proudly? Her own people had lost almost all faith in her, she was weak and unable to do much but be lambs to the slaughter, for her brother. How could she support and help her brother who took her in after Germany left her in such a state? How could she repay him? What could she do.

"Sister..." Ivan's voice was soft, gentle but an underlieing edge. "Why were you late?"

"I am sorry, brother dearest...I am just very tired...forgive me..." and she tried not to let the tears slip, but they did. She wanted to say it was because she did not wish to wake up and fall forever from the Earth, but she couldn't. She had to be strong to hold her brother together, to give comfort to her sister...to give back hope to her own people. A hope she cannot hold onto nor believe in. She was a scape goat, will always be as such. she knew this, and she accepted it.

Ivan nodded, letting the female off for the moment; yet she could not help but have a cold, sinking feeling over take her. Her head was spinning as she slumped forward, fists clenching her skirt tightly. To the side she could see the other countries which her brother had managed to hold in his grasp. Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania...many others she knew by word of mouth alone. All looked away, did not see her. No, instead they merely listened to Ivan and his Boss. The air was thick, heavy and pregnant with an emotion she could not identify. Through out the meeting she felt her boss's hand on her own, felt the sympathetic gazes and the glare...

Shyly she raised her eyes to catch the Belorussian before looking away. The hate, the loathing...the desire to help but being unable too. Those emotions which swam in the lovely woman pierced through to the Ukrainian, had her dignity died then and there she would have cried...screamed...anything to find a way to escape instead she sat with a downcast gaze, wishing for once that she could have those gentle times back. Haig's eyes never left her form as the meeting continued.


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